


Beats The 9 To 5

by butt_muncher_seven



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad at hugs but good at sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Deadshot's a good bro, He knows what sad bros need, I spent the worst parts of the movie drafting this, June Moon needs some time to sort things out, Let's be reall he seems like the kind of guy who'd take breakups really hard, M/M, PWP, Rick Flag is taking it really badly, it's basically just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butt_muncher_seven/pseuds/butt_muncher_seven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>June Moon's spent the last couple years riding shotgun to an other dimensional maniac and needs some time to figure her life out. Floyd gets that, sometimes you need to cut the past off completely to move ahead. Flag's not taking it so well. Any other time Floyd'd keep out of it and let time do its thing, but they're stuck in Perth surrounded by crab-men (man-crabs?) and they could really use the full attention of their squad leader right now.</p>
<p>If Floyd needs to to take one for the team to make that happen, he's okay with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beats The 9 To 5

Floyd had to hand it to Waller, she sure was getting her money's worth out of them. He hadn't expected there to be many situations that called for boomerangs, baseball bats and a crocodile man, but apparently there were. That he'd be a military asset was marginally less surprising, but he'd have thought his attitude would make it a pretty poor bargain. Apparently that too was inaccurate, and not because he'd underestimated the value of his aim.

Case in point. They were deep behind enemy lines in Perth, trapped between a lot of crab-people and a fuckton of crab-people, all intent on world domination, and Floyd was worrying about team dynamics. Namely, Flag. He was worried about Flag. The guy was grumpy, sure, holding their lives on a very short leash, yes, but he was also their best shot at ending this quickly. If he could stay focused on the goddamn mission, that was, instead of staring at the small gold band hanging off his dog tags and sighing a bunch. Three weeks after his ex-wife had left Floyd'd been out buying Prada for his rebound girl, but Flag was taking this a little harder. More "good guy" stuff or whatever, Floyd didn't know. But whatever it was it needed to end now or they'd be stuck in Australia 'til they died. Which would be shortly if no one did something. 

Floyd sighed, looked around the upscale hotel room they'd staked out. Harley was trying to paint Katana's nails. Katana was looking like she was torn between rejoining her husband right then and there or just sending Harley to meet him. Croc was playing cards with Boomerang and some agents, arguing over whether the enemy were people turned into crabs or crabs turned into people. Flag was leaning on some maps and staring at Moon's engagement ring. Goddamit. Looks like it was up to him. Again. 

He put his bigger guns down and walked over to Flag. He didn't strut, exactly, but he moved as confidently and powerfully as he knew how. He'd caught Flag staring before, he knew what he liked. Sure enough, Flag was watching Floyd out of the corner of his eye by the time he came up close behind him. 

"Come on, lemme talk to you about something." Flag looked interested. Good. They were past the days of Flag's thumb hovering over the 'terminate' button whenever they got too close, and that showed in how easily he followed Floyd into the next room. He simply nodded at his lieutenant and shut the door behind them.

"So?" Flag asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What's this about?"

Floyd didn't answer immediately, choosing instead to shrug off his jacket. Flag's tracked the movement, gazing at chest and shoulders for a moment before looking him expectantly in the eye. 

"I was thinking" Floyd toed his boots off, padded closer to the captain. "It's probably been a while, yeah?"  
"Excuse me?" Flag asked, with a good deal less anger than the question warrented. Good. Encouraged, Floyd peeled his shirt off. The naked hunger that rose up on Flag's face was flattering. Floyd preened a bit inside. He knew what he looked like, but it was easy to forget the feel of other people's desire when your main break from solitary was a good old-fashioned prison beating. He settled onto Flag's lap gracefully. Flag's hands flew up, warm and strong, to hold his hips. 

"What." He looked shellshocked. His breath was coming in faster and he couldn't seem to stop staring at Floyd's well-muscled chest.   
"Come on Flag, we both know you want this. Been watching me a long time, haven't you?"   
"That's, not -" He broke off when Floyd rolled his hips, grinding against Flag's hard dick and pushing his own against Flag's abdomen.   
"Yeah, that's it." Flag tightened his hold on Floyd's hips, pulling him down while he ground his dick against him.   
"This is a trap." Flag panted, continuing to move against Floyd's body.  
"Naw, baby, this is just.. letting off steam before the next push." 

Flag's lust filled eyes searched his face, hunting for some sign of betrayal. Floyd met his gaze steadily. He'd won the moment Flag didn't push him off, but it wouldn't do to seem suspicious. Let Flag think he was just a injudicious hedonist, looking for a warm body to pass the time with. It worked. Flag nodded tightly and pulled Floyd in for a kiss. Floyd, startled, made a noise of surprise. Kissing Flag was.. nice. Unexpected, a little chapped, but kind of sweet. He kissed back, enjoying the feel of Flag's mouth against his, the simple, all-consuming sensation of it. 

Flag leaned back onto the bed and Floyd chased him, bringing their lips back together. Kissing with Flag underneath him was an even headier experience. He felt himself losing track of his mission as Flag held his head with one hand and grabbed his ass with the other. Fighting to regain control of the situation Flag started pulling one-handed at their belts. He mentally reviewed his plan: get his dick out, get Flag's out, get a hand around them both and finish this off quickly. Faster was better, probably. Right? Except Flag didn't seem to be on the same page. As soon as Floyd's belt was undone Flag was getting in the way, tugging at Floyd's dick in a very distracting way and moaning. Shit. 

"Woah, wait a second -" Floyd broke off their kiss.   
"Yeah, yeah." Flag replied breathlessly, scooting up the mattress until he was propped up against the pillows. "C'mere, I'll blow you." Okay. Not where Floyd was going with that, but okay. He threw off his pants and crawled up the bed after Flag, trying not to look too eager. It seemed he needn't have bothered. As soon as he was kneeling over Flag's chest, Flag's mouth was on him, hands on his ass to push him in deeper. Floyd grabbed the headboard. He was trying to remember how to breathe. Had Flag always been good at this? He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a blowjob this enthusiastic. He bit his lip, tensed his thighs, willing himself not to come right there. Thank god it had been a while since he'd jerked off, he wanted this to last as long as possible. 

Spotting a complimentary lotion bottle on the bedside table gave him an idea. He leaned over to snatch it and pressed it into Flag's hands, nodding at Flag's questioning look. Flag didn't even pull off, he just kept on bobbing his head while slick sounds of lotion being poured came behind him. The first finger squelched in easily, a welcome distraction from the truly marvelous things Flag was doing with his tongue. Floyd forced himself to relax into it. He relished the feeling of being fingered open. Every digit Flag added felt like it would short-circuit Floyd's brain. The stretch and slide was amazing. A fine tremour ran up his legs as he forced himself to keep still until he couldn't, it was impossible. He ground back onto those thick fingers, thrust forward into tight, wet heat, a beautiful cycle he'd've sold his soul to.

Floyd nearly sobbed when Flag pulled his fingers out. He knelt back, panting, as Flag scrambled to sit up and coat his dick liberally with lotion. When Flag slid himself into Floyd, so, so slowly, it was nearly overwhelming. Floyd kissed him hard, buying himself time to adjust to the stretch. Flag didn't push it, just ran his clean hand up and down Floyd's side and kissed him back sweetly. That, too, was overwhelming, so Floyd pulled back and started moving. It was impossible but somehow Floyd had forgotten how good this felt. Honey-sweet sparks slid up his spine. He felt so full, drowning in the feel of Flag balls deep in him and thrusting. Flag's breath was hot on his chest and his hand was slick and tight on his dick and it was too much, too much. He came almost painfully, the pleasure so excruciatingly good he thought it might kill him. Come gushed warmly over Flag's hands, probably getting on his shirt.

Flag made a wounded noise. He planted his feet and thrust into him in earnest. Floyd felt limp, heavy. He leaned heavily against Flag's body, planted open mouthed kissed against the side of his face. He whispered encouragement into his ear. Finally, Flag was coming too. He gripped Floyd's hips tightly, stifled a noise, thrust forward one last time hard and deep. 

They stayed together a minute, breathing hard. It was too hot for cuddling though. Floyd felt almost reluctant as he pulled off gingerly and flopped to the side. Flag made a face and wiped his hands on the bedspread. 

"Collateral damage." He smiled lazily in response to Floyd's look.   
"Don't suppose you have a cigarette on you." Flag wordlessly pulled a pack and a light out of his pants.  
"Not usually, but. It's been a rough couple weeks."  
"I'll bet." They smoked in silence for a bit, passing the cigarette back and forth.   
"Time to face the squad I guess." Flag groaned when they'd finished.  
"They gonna be dicks about it?" Floyd asked.  
"My boys? Nah. Yours'll be though." Floyd thought about it for a second.   
"Yeah, probably. I'm more worried about the monsters outside, to be honest." 

Flag nodded, stretched leisurely, tucked himself back in.   
"Alright, Deadshot, get dressed. I've got a plan for them."


End file.
